Chapter 08: The Story of Two Adventurers, Part One.

Chapter 08: The Story of Two Adventurers, Part One.

The crowd of townspeople stood frozen, their eyes wide with a mixture of shock and disbelief. A boy and a girl, barely more than youths, had just intervened to stop a fight that was about to break out between two real adventurers.

Fulan's stance was firm, his black eyes locked on the furious gaze of the axe-wielder. A faint white aura pulsed and shimmered around his body.

Behind him, the blond swordsman stared at the back of the boy who had just protected him. His blue eyes were fixed on the ethereal white energy. That speed… it's otherworldly, rivaling the speed of sound, he thought. And that white aura… those are the hallmarks of the White Tiger ability. He paused, his thoughts catching. No, I'm probably just imagining things...

On the other side of the standoff, the bearded man strained against the blue bandages wrapped tightly around his silver axe. He glared from his brown eyes into Fayrouz's, which glowed with a faint cerulean light. He grunted, trying to force his axe down, and Fayrouz's brow furrowed, her teeth gritting as she struggled to restrain him. Despite her power, his raw physical strength was immense.

"Young lady," he said, his voice quiet but charged with annoyance, "what do you think you're doing?"

Fayrouz met his gaze with her unwavering calm. "Stopping a fool from committing murder in the middle of a peaceful village."

His eyes narrowed. "Murder? You are gravely mistaken. This isn't a crime; it's vengeance for a kind soul who has left this world. So, why don't you step aside before things get ugly?"

The crowd watched in silence, the tension mounting with every word. But Fayrouz did not back down. She tightened her grip on the blue bandages, her voice steady. "Things get ugly? The only person who will have a bad time here is you. To me, you're just a ticking time bomb that needs to be thrown in a cell for a few days to cool off."

The broad-shouldered adventurer sighed, whispering as he tightened his own grip on his axe. "The youth of this age… they don't know how to stay within their own limits."

His axe flashed, glowing with a searing, fiery orange light. Steam hissed from its surface as Fayrouz's blue bandages were instantly incinerated, the flames consuming them in a flash.

For a fleeting moment, Fayrouz's glowing blue eyes wavered. A phantom image crossed her mind: her mother's face, her own blue eyes framed by wavy, light-blue silk-like hair.

She quickly retracted the burning threads. The bandages glowed as they reshaped themselves into a small, elegant blue cloth bracelet. She carefully inspected it, relieved to find no burns or damage. The axe-wielder took his eyes off her and looked forward, at Fulan, who stood between him and the other adventurer.

The bearded man raised his axe high, his muscles tensing, his eyes burning with intent. Fulan tensed his own leg muscles, preparing to evade whatever attack was coming. But instead of swinging at a person, the adventurer brought the axe down.

CRASH!!!

He slammed it into the ground with a force that shook everyone around them. Small children in the crowd stumbled and fell from the tremor. The stone paving cracked in a spiderweb pattern and dust billowed out, causing the crowd to cough and cover their eyes. The dust was not thick enough to obscure the scene, however.

It was clear the blow was not aimed at anyone. The axe was now embedded deep in the stone. The adventurer's fingers uncurled, and he let his hand fall away from the silver weapon.

Fulan, who had been poised for battle a moment before, looked on with surprise.

"Tonight," the bearded man said, his voice carrying to everyone watching the event, "two hours from now, at nine o'clock sharp. You and I will end this in the way of the warrior tribe. If you truly call yourself an adventurer, you will meet me here. If you want to run away, then do as you please. For the sake of Lamaria's death, I will end our friendship tonight."

He turned and began to walk away, pushing through the crowd.

"We've known each other for nine years," the blond swordsman called after him, his voice quiet but full of unsaid emotions. "Do you really think I would run?"

The bearded man paused for a moment beside Fayrouz. He didn't look at her, but she looked at him. His gaze remained fixed forward as he spoke, just before continuing on his way. "Yes. If you had just responded to her feelings better, you would have been the best man I know."

He departed with heavy, quiet steps, leaving the crowd in a stunned silence. The blond swordsman looked down at the ground, his expression now holding a deep, hidden sorrow and regret. The two adventurers, despite their different outward reactions, were both carrying a profound grief.

The crowd began to murmur as they dispersed.

"No fight?" a nine-year-old boy grumbled, his hands clasped behind his head as if he were lounging. "I was so excited to see adventurers fight. What a waste of time. My mom won't let me out at nine."

"They're going to fight at nine?" a man said to his friend. "It'll be a bit cold by then."

"So what? Are you going to stay home?"

"Of course not! A duel between professional adventurers is rare. I wouldn't miss it."

"Want to bet on the outcome?"

"Only if you let me bet on the one with the axe."

"But the one with the sword seems weak. There's no point in betting…"

Fulan and Fayrouz looked around. The villagers didn't seem to care about the dispute or the story behind it; they just wanted to see a fight between adventurers, a rare spectacle for them.

Fulan sighed, and as the air left his lungs, the white aura around him dissipated.

[White Tiger Ability Deactivated]

He stared at the disappearing text. I still don't understand this language, he thought. He ran a hand through his hair, a familiar, frustrated gesture. I'm illiterate by nature, but I have to learn to read and write for this system. I think the language will open up greater possibilities for me. If it weren't for my master, I probably wouldn't have been able to understand how my ability works at all.

His thoughts were cut short as Fayrouz appeared before him. His black eyes met her blue ones. For the first time, Fulan realized that Fayrouz was a few centimeters taller than him.

"What are you going to do?" she asked in her calm tone.

"Do you expect me to do something?" he countered.

"Based on the short time I've spent with you, I know you're already thinking about something."

He remained silent as a single, soft snowflake touched his forehead. He felt its coldness as he lifted his head. Fayrouz looked up as well. More snowflakes began to fall, and the pinkish clouds had finally turned a uniform grey as the last of the sun's light vanished completely.

"For now," Fulan said quietly, "I'll stay with this swordsman. Knowing a little about the story might be useful."

Fayrouz looked over at the blond swordsman. "He seems like the tight-lipped type. That might be an impossible mission. In that case, I will follow the bearded one. Let's meet again at nine. Hopefully, we'll find a solution by then."

Fulan nodded. Fayrouz turned and walked away with quiet steps, already tracking the broad-shouldered adventurer.

Fulan stood there, his gaze fixed on the axe embedded in the ground. He felt a touch on his shoulder. When he turned, he found the blond, blue-eyed adventurer smiling at him.

"Are you curious about how he can carry that heavy weapon and swing it so easily?" the adventurer asked.

"You seem very calm for someone who's about to enter a difficult fight," Fulan replied.

The blond man's smile turned melancholic as he looked forward, in the direction his friend had gone. "There will be no fight," he said. "I'm simply going to die."

Fulan's black eyes widened, his mind racing. Are you saying... you plan to receive a fatal blow...?